


« on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur »

by d_fenestrate



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic Fluff, Eiffel Tower, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Haikyuu!! Time skip, Hugs, Kisses, Louvre, M/M, Metaphors, POV Hinata Shouyou, Paris (City), Paris 2024 Summer Olympics, Soft Hinata Shouyou, Soft Kageyama Tobio, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Traveling Together, UshiTen mentioned, Versailles - Freeform, Wow, beta once again has strongly reacted to the marriage, bokuaka mentioned, copious use of metaphors, hinata is v smart and can't stop thinking about tobio, it's v meta, kghn are so in love omfg, married kagehina, op is going insane, op is going insane by placing the eternal lovers in the city of love, sakuatsu mentioned, they are 29/30 in this and married and it's probably op's favorite kghn they've written, time skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29079084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_fenestrate/pseuds/d_fenestrate
Summary: On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœurWe only see well with the heart.-Le Petit Prince, Antoine de Saint-ExupéryFollowing the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris, Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio have three days to travel the city for the first time together. As they visit some of the key Parisien spectacles, Hinata finds himself often focusing more on his partner by his side than various pieces of art, architecture, and history they encounter at each location.That’s okay, though. Kageyama, himself, is a sensation who will never cease to enthral Hinata.alt; a three day trip in paris filled with the fluffiest, domestic kagehina featuring hinata’s incessant thoughts about kageyama through it all
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	« on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur »

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! k here!!!
> 
> welcome to my first fic of 2021!!! or, at least, a part of it!
> 
> i present to you paris fic: a very self-indulgent piece through which i relive parts of my study abroad in paris and also visit places i couldn’t via writing and kghn. for a little more context, i had gone to paris in spring 2020 for a semester abroad, however, due to covid, the trip was cut off short and i was sent home only a month into the experience (with little to no refunds >:((( and also the learning for the rest of the semester was difficult :(((( ). anyways, i landed in paris around this time last year, so here i am, posting the first chapter to commemorate that experience!!! this fic is supposed to partially act as complete self-indulgence and also partially act as closure for the trip. 
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy!!! this first part features a lot of hinata’s internal monologue (as does the rest of the fic). it was originally going to be the introduction to the piece (i was planning on posting everything at once) but, as i kept writing, i got carried away and now there are 4 chapters! i’ll post a posting schedule soon as i do plan to finish this soon soon ;)))
> 
> thanks v v v v much to nae for beta-ing. nae is literally the best, if you want to read some wonderful snos, i’d suggest giving her account a visit @spiritscript. 
> 
> also, special thanks to my lovely friends heart, mogio, spin, and ellie for letting me scream in their dms about this fic. y’all are the best :DDD!!!!!
> 
> i would’ve loved to give y’all some playlists but tbh i’ve been listening to french music that i can easily tune out while writing. maybe by the end of this i’ll have a playlist for the whole thing. we’ll see :DDDD
> 
> anyways!!!! i’ve rambled enough. i hope you enjoy!!!!

L’amour est comme le vent, nous ne savons pas d’où il vient

_Love is like the wind, we don't know from where it comes._

— Balzac

The Charles DeGualle Airport, sitting right beyond the outskirts of the city of Paris, has not known peace since the footsteps of its first visitor rang through its halls, and has not seen a day of rest since its first aeroplane took off, flying away into the air. Day by day, planes kick off of runways and launch into the air, boarded with people whose presence would soon be easily replaced with newcomers setting foot on the vibrant, red carpeting, starry eyed as they pass through each door to finally walk out into the open of the country they’ve come to visit. 

The crowds quickly move in and move out, bustling and rustling in hoards, shifting with each departure and each arrival. There is never any stillness, there is never any lull, never an idle body in the roaring sea of busy bodies. 

And yet, on this one particular night, merely a night or two before the eve of the 2024 Olympics, there remains an idle body stuck in his position, unmoving despite the energy thrumming through his veins, electrifying his limbs to fidget, shake, and tap his left foot, maintaining a brisk, steady rhythm against the while tiles laying on the floors right outside the arrival gates. Seated on a mesh, metal bench that likely hasn’t received such continuous attention in ages, this idle body buzzes, eyes darting to the large screens with every changing name and status, and at each and every call from the speakers. If he is not searching for a name that’s yet long to come, he is sifting through his phone notifications, gliding past the flurry of messages from friends and those adjacent, in hopes of finding one from a specific, particular contact in his book. 

It’s when Shouyou sees a message bubble from his younger sister descend from the top of his screen, asking of his and Tobio’s arrival and status, that he sighs and lets the hand holding the device fall against his left leg, the weight of the drop ceasing his hyperactive movements. There’s a response in his head, words floating around and lingering at the ends of his thumbs, a mere few taps and clicks away. But instead, Shouyou looks up and ahead at the large floor to ceiling windows that give him a clear view of the dark night outside and its midnight background ordained with street lights beaming down to the streets as headlights blur past, departing away from the airport for the entrance into the city kilometers away. 

The response he could send is curt. Shouyou had taken a different, slightly delayed flight due to some personal, unavoidable events in his schedule. Tobio had remained behind to join the rest of the team in their collective flight from Japan and towards France, which was to land earlier than Shouyou. As it was written on the tickets, Shouyou should’ve been greeted at the Charles De Gaulle Airport with an awaiting Tobio accompanied by the rest of his team. 

However, it was him who landed first. It was him who was greeted with a rather empty audience lacking the critical figure who was supposed to stand tall in the crowd, who was supposed to look at him with whatever reserved emotion it was that the other was to be experiencing then. Walking into the empty foyer was when Shouyou had learned of the drastic, immense delays at the airport from where the rest of his team was to depart. And much to Shouyou’s dismay, the issues were prolonging their arrival not by minutes, but by complete, round hours. 

The first estimate given had been two hours. The second estimate given had been three hours. Shouyou has been waiting for nearly four hours. He has waited at various benches, various kiosks, and various lounges. He has repeatedly strolled past the same band of windows, trying to engage with the visuals of winding roads stacked atop each other, altogether against barren expanses of land. He has even taken to reading travel pamphlets at the side of information desks, just anything extra to help deter his attention from the fact that his itinerary reads that his location is to be elsewhere.

In its own right, so does Tobio’s itinerary. 

A taxi rolls to a halt at a set of traffic lights turning red. Against the misty air and the hazy light gliding down on the vehicle, Shouyou can distinctly see ghosts of the smoke exiting the exhaust, puffing out slowly as the driver and the passenger wait anxiously in their idle positions. 

If Shouyou were to leave right at that instance, sit himself in a cab and wait for the wheels to take him away from the airport to his lodging resting right on the outskirts of Paris, he would still be waiting. If he were to enter his designated room in the Olympic Village, unpack his belongings and unwind in the luxury of the carefully designed compact rooms, he would still be waiting, accompanied only with an incomplete set of dining chairs, an empty bed, and a couch way too large for just his figure. 

Even if he were to be on location at the proper timing, the location itself would not be present for Shouyou. Not without Tobio. 

Abruptly, Shouyou jumps up. His suitcase leaning against his knee tips over slightly and falls completely flat on the ground, the handle obnoxiously protruding over the span of about two seats. He ignores the sound that echoes through the ever-changing hall, far more focused on the emotions that bubble within him, energy pooling within his calves, within his arms, within the pads of his fingertips, buzzing and shocking each and every nerve point available to its reach.

Waiting has never been Shouyou’s best suit, especially not when he’s to wait with no other task at hand--when he’s to sit quietly as the minutes pass by, deeply involved in their endless sixty second races as they painstakingly try to catch up with the other, only to never make mutual contact in each loop. 

He needs a distraction, Shouyou deems, squatting to reach for his fallen suitcase. He rolls the case up to the looming windows ahead of him. Directly in front of the glass, the view is just as sparse as it was from the seats. Even up close, the details of the winding roads, glowing lights, and stretching lands hardly provide the occupation Shouyou needs to entertain his turbulent, impatient mind. 

Nevertheless, Shouyou persists. 

Paris, he thinks plainly. His suitcase stands tall and independent by his side. 

He, himself, has visited the city before, all alone. “Alone” is a dramatic way of saying that Shouyou has visited Paris a few times with his Brazilian team, Asas São Paulo. Yet, “alone” remains an appropriate way of saying that Shouyou has never visited Paris, the renowned city of love, without the one to whom he has promised eternal love, this pledge represented by the gold ring that rests on his left ring finger. 

Tobio has visited Paris far more than Shouyou. It makes sense—in comparison to the distance between Brazil and France, the distance between Italy and France is practically nothing. Moreover, Italy and France share all 515 kms of a border.

Separate, they’ve graced the uneven, old stone Parisien roads, but never have the two of them, side by side, graced the weathered brown buildings, standing in the cold as the singing wind strolls in from the graceful Seine. 

The thought of Tobio elicits a twitch from Shouyou’s right hand, the urge guiding his phone out of his pocket. He looks down, his face unlocking the home screen to reveal scattered apps resting against a lively backdrop image of him, Tobio, Natsu, Miwa, and Alisa at their wedding, with Natsu nestling in between the teary-eyed, smiling couple while Miwa and Alisa stand behind, an arm around each other’s shoulder, brightly smiling with pride as Miwa hooks her other arm around Tobio. For a brief moment, the cloud blurring his mind fazes out and Shouyou’s expression softens, lips fluttering into an awfully fond smile. Memories from the night are overwhelming, but the pictures that were captured compact and compress the overflowing happiness and love within a set dimension of pixels—constrained enough for Shouyou to view without running mad at the remembrance that Tobio and he are  _ married _ . 

Shouyou tears his gaze away from his empty notifications banner. Phone slipping back into his pocket, he brings himself to focus on the forest green land stretching out into the grey, cloudy horizon that peeks through small windows between the bridges laid on top each other. From where he stands, there is little to no view of Paris. 

This provides Shouyou a brief reprieve. Although, brief might as well be an overestimate. The lazy, dark blue-tinted clouds easily redirect his attention elsewhere, reigniting that restlessness within him. Dark blue pulls out a rather clear image of a pair of similarly hued windows that often grant Shouyou safe access to witness countless storms of countless causes, countless desires, and countless emotions. Memories open these windows and Shouyou is pulled into a relentless riptide, snatching him away from the sea of green beyond the glass in front of him and steering him towards the sea of blue that will never drown him, no matter how much Shouyou dares to submerge himself within. 

Shouyou isn’t quite certain from where the restlessness within him originated. Nevertheless, it sticks, driving him mad, tunneling the seas of his own emotions into violent spouts of love and yearning, oceanic tornados that rip across his heart in ways that have Shouyou’s limbs aching to run wildly too, run wildly in one direction towards one man. 

It only takes a moment for it all to be too much. 

The sounds around him are tunneled. The announcer may have spoken, Shouyou wouldn’t have known, his unfocused eyes transporting him from one sea bed to another. The world around him is hazy, blurry, present but not quite perceived as Shouyou loses himself to his whims. 

Breathe, Shouyou thinks. He needs to breathe, to center himself, to ground himself. He needs to get out of his head and check his phone again to see if Tobio has, finally, seen his slew of messages continuously updating the other on his various locations within the airport itself. 

The sounds around him amplify. Choruses of footsteps ring in Shouyou’s head as he struggles to regain control of his own body. Strangely enough, the mismatched rhythm of the crowds behind him grant Shouyou enough leverage to take a staggered, conscious breath. 

Phone, Shouyou thinks, somewhat in the clear as he finally finds it within himself to move. Phone, he thinks again, against the natural movements of his body turning around to face the arrivals gate he, himself, had arrived at. 

Phone, he forgets at the sight of a familiar set of a green scarf, black sneakers, and a fancy navy coat, strolling out of the metal frames, walking past the fencing and undoubtedly headed straight towards him. Busy bodies bustle between the two, obstructing Shouyou’s view. 

He, himself, stands still with a bated breath. Behind him, the scenery falls even deeper into the night, taking away the blue in the clouds to coat them with a midnight shroud. Inside, a warm, welcoming grey-blue approaches him. 

And it is when Shouyou makes eye contact with the friendly, loving storm brewing in the blue windows gazing upon him that he is granted breath. And it is when Shouyou catches a glimpse of the fond, sickly sweet smile directed his way that he is finally granted clarity. 

The closer Tobio nears, the more anchored Shouyou feels, the grounding giving him more freedom to escape his head and move. He walks, accelerating consistently, to meet Tobio halfway--in the middle of the busy bodies exiting and entering the airport. 

“You’re late,” Shouyou scolds as he steps with ease into Tobio’s arms. Pressed up against the other’s chest, he feels the vibrations of Tobio’s muffled chuckle against his cheek, somehow finding comfort in the feeling of wool-like fabric scratching against his skin. 

“I wasn’t driving the plane,” Tobio tsks, not letting go of Shouyou or his smile. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Shouyou complains. “I’ve been waiting for so long just because you were late.” Tilting his head up, Shouyou attempts to glare at his partner, only to find himself immediately drawn into the overwhelming storm of emotions erupting within Tobio, the arms around him causing him to feel like a protected onlooker stationed within the eye of the storm. 

“Let’s just say that I won this time,” Shouyou mutters smugly, eyes slitting as he cunningly smiles. “I arrived first, anyways.” 

Tobio scoffs, brows rising. “We are not counting this in our tally, I had nothing to do with the delays.” 

Shouyou shakes his head slowly. “No, no, no, Tobi. You can’t deny that I won. I even waited for you to tell you that.” 

Tobio suppresses a laugh. “That’s why you waited, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Shouyou affirms with glee. “ _ That’s _ why I waited. No other reason.” 

“Dumbass,” Tobio sputters, unable to suppress the laughter any more. Shouyou joins him in his chuckling, pushing off to break apart their hold. He then reaches down and out, spreading his fingers apart for Tobio to take and intertwine his larger hands around Shouyou’s sturdy ones. 

With his other hand grasping the handle of his suitcase, Shouyou easily guides Tobio away from their idle positions and into the streams of busy bodies flowing in and out, finding their respective cohort of bustling folk, the National team, in their departure for the Olympic Village. 

Somewhere in the midst of waiting and not letting go of each other, Shouyou leans over to Tobio to ask if the other is hungry. Tobio nods, lifting a brow to return Shouyou the same question. 

“C’mon,” Shouyou answers with a curt nod. “I’ll make you curry at the village.” He sits back to rest his back against the wall behind the bench to the side of another waiting area, eyes closed as he waits with Tobio leaning against his side while thinking of the dish he will soon make in their temporary kitchen. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The actual Olympic activities quickly follow their arrival to Paris. Day to day life is temporarily swamped with media events, preparations for games, and the actual games themselves. In all that happens, hours turn into seconds while days seemingly elongate to years. There is no time to be tired, no time to be overwhelmed, and little to no time to sit back and take it all in. 

Nevertheless, the festivities are enjoyable, filled with enthusiasm that commands not only the city, but also the world. Shouyou and Tobio follow through each event while carrying this electrified energy, joining their team in their hype and ambitions.

It’s at the end of the days--when the rest of the athletes are left to their own devices--that the two, nestled next to each other on their shared bed, find themselves gasping for that deep breath they’d been holding back all day. Shouyou takes in another one for good measure, his insides thrumming against the relaxation he tries to don. Tobio, in noticing Shouyou’s extra breath, turns to lean his head onto the other’s shoulder, bringing his arm up and over to drape across Shouyou’s torso, giving him space to take whatever it is that he needs to ride off of the adrenaline high. 

Before, much before, it would’ve taken longer for Shouyou to come down. Even with all his skills and coping mechanisms, there were certain heights that were difficult to descend from. Even now, with all his practice, the depths he must travel to reach a tranquil, sustainable baseline are massive, behemoths that rile him up even more, keeping Shouyou in flight when flying is what he needs relief from. 

The moment Tobio’s arm falls upon him, the total weight of the other’s figure leaning against him, pulls Shouyou down. Warm paced breaths slowly fan across his neck, soothing the tension that inadvertently comes with the restlessness and the high.

But, whenever Tobio is around, the descent is effortless. Shouyou takes Tobio’s hand and glides down, stretching his legs out to touch the same ground his partner stands upon. Some days, landing requires not a path but a runway to sprint across, legs thumping against the ground till the energy diffuses and he comes to a gradual stop. 

Tobio will run with him, keeping pace, his presence anchoring Shouyou even more as the sensation of his weight against the ground grows heavier with each stride across it. Finally, at a halt and with his feet firmly planted on the ground, Shouyou will be able to turn and freely break apart within secure arms that vow to keep him together till they both are ready to take flight and soar again. 

Shouyou begins to conscientiously sense Tobio’s arm across his torso, breaths upon his neck, and body against his side. He sighs, deflating as the hum under his skin dissipates to a serene quiet. When Tobio cracks an eye open and looks up to check on him, Shouyou laughs, carefree, pushing his head back further into the pillow. 

“What?” Tobio asks as he nestles his head back onto Shouyou’s shoulder. 

“Your hair’s a mess,” Shouyou manages in between giggles, bringing his hand up to poke at the odd ends sticking out from Tobio’s head. He pokes once, twice, and almost a third time before Tobio’s hand shoots up to catch Shouyou’s wrist and pull it down, keeping it within his hold. Shouyou, still laughing, fumbles against the hold to twist his hand around and intertwine his fingers with Tobio’s. 

Tobio comes to Shouyou as a fresh breath of air. Tobio pulls Shouyou down like an anchor. There lingers an extra thread to this train of thought, but, with his mind and body at peace and his lover by his side, Shouyou can’t find it within himself to complete the sentiment, choosing to instead succumb to the deep throes of slumber that overtake him.

“Goodnight Tobi,” Hinata mumbles. He tilts his head to his side, barely resting his cheek against the other’s hair, the odd ends faintly brushing against his skin. 

“Goodnight Shou.” 

He’ll revisit it another time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur.

_We only see well with the heart._

\- _Le Petit Prince_ , Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

  
  
  


“Do you have the passes?”

“Yeah, do you have the map?”

“Yeah, it’s downloaded on my phone. What time is it?”

“Time… Hold up, it’s… Fuck! It’s 9:49.”

“Shit, shit, shit, when’s the metro coming?”

“In 4 minutes,” Tobio whispers loudly, walking large strides to grab his satchel sitting on their table. In another stride, he uses his other hand to grab onto Shouyou’s shoulder and spin him around. “You got everything?” 

“U-Uh, yeah, wait!” Shouyou exclaims, turning out of Tobio’s pushes. He scrambles for his and Tobio’s water bottles resting on the countertops, a pair of steel cylinders that they have had since the end of their time at Karasuno High School. “We can’t forget the water.”

Standing in their open door, Tobio reaches out for the water bottle Shouyou hands to him. Switching it to his other hand, he grabs Shouyou’s hand and leads him out towards the station. 

They barely make it to the train. Had they not sprinted from the distance when they had seen the grey metal come to a creeping stop, they would not have been able to jump through the shutting doors, squeezing in as they stepped in side by side. Tobio, having entered first, pulls strongly on Shouyou’s arms, the momentum sending the shorter into his arms. Along with the yank and the sudden jerk of the train moving, Shouyou finds himself grasping onto Tobio for balance, staying put as Tobio holds him up with one arm, the other reaching above to the overhead rings. 

“Thanks,” Shouyou mutters, eventually straightening up when the train starts to roll forward continuously, Tobio simply sighs and steps inwards, closing the distance between them. With his chest touching Shouyou’s shoulder, he turns his head to the windows behind, eyes transfixed on the moving scenery. 

Shouyou shakes his head with a tiny smile. Throwing a glance back at the moving scenery of worn, beige buildings with thin metal fences and large framed windows, against the cerulean backdrop strewn with puffs of brightly white clouds slowly swirling into the morning sky, he reverts to facing towards Tobio, reading the changes in landscape within the other’s mesmerized eyes. There is little to no change in Tobio’s expression, but Shouyou can read the other’s gaze well enough, with all its storms hidden within the blue and grey, to know that Tobio is excited and entranced. 

The Olympics are over. Within a few days, the Japanese National Team will have to depart from Paris to land in Tokyo. Within a few days after that, select members of the Japanese Team will part their ways, returning to their on-season teams till the next time to reunite as a nation comes again. 

In this limbo period between a job well done and more jobs to address, Shouyou and Tobio will be traveling through Paris for the first time together.

The train jerks as it plunges into a tunnel, the hollow space augmenting the surrounding sounds of metal against metal and creaks of cabins turning as the tracks curve and bend. Tobio blinks and turns to meet Shouyou’s gaze, holding it steadily with no question and no added thought. 

They have three days to travel through Paris. They won’t be able to cover all the land, nor will they be able to cover all the places they’d like to visit. But in the brief period they have together, they will be able to finally bestow the city of love with their own immortalized presence. 

They pass through stops. Busy bodies walk in and walk out. Tobio and Shouyou remain idle in their position, pressed up against each other. More destinations pass before the train speeds out into the open again. Light instantly spills into their car, brightly washing up against Tobio’s face, catching the gleam that sparkles in his stare. He’s quick to break away and turn to the scenery once again, with Shouyou joining him to peer at the city of Paris with all its crowded roads, crowded corner shops, and crowded metro stops. 

“What was the name of the stop again?”

“Akaashi-san, said to meet them at Louvre-Rivoli,” Shouyou answers, breaking away from the window to check the dots blinking ahead. Tobio doesn’t move. “We have two more stops left.” 

Tobio nods and returns to gazing at the changing landscape behind. Shouyou, once again takes to gazing at Tobio, now reading other attributes such as the small window between his bangs that reveal a small peek at his forehead, the faintest pout of his lips that remains sustained by the childlike curiosity that brims within him, and the glimmer of the silver chain hanging around his neck as it holds Tobio’s wedding ring, allowing it to carefully rest against his chest. 

They have three days to travel Paris. And, rather than travel through the streets whilst brimming with curiosity and wonder, Hinata Shouyou can’t help but remain enamoured by Kageyama Tobio.

💙💍🧡

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!!! kudos and comments are v much appreciated :DDD
> 
> the next chapter will be coming out either on feb 5 or feb 9 (i have exams this week, so it all depends on that). 
> 
> you can visit me on twitter or tumblr!!! feel free to engage, i’m always screaming about kghn :DDD
> 
> you can visit nae on twitter!!! 
> 
> until next time!!!! (which is SOON!!!)


End file.
